The Fates Behind
by TrailingEducation
Summary: Alexios thought he had saved a baby from a fire, but he may have just thrown it into the blaze. It seemed such a simple decision; but when Theros the Mountain Flame arrives in Athens to call him on a new journey, he finds that even the simplest decisions can carry heavy burdens. The love of a father is one not bound by oceans and time.
1. Theros the Mountain Flame

**The Fates Behind**

He worshipped at the temple of Aphrodite.

Alkibiades had seen him a few times; in the evening, when all was quiet, offering small gifts to the goddess while he prayed. Theros, he believed his name was. He was a misthios of some renown – not as famous as the Eagle Bearer, but a legend quickly on the rise, and some of the locals had taken to calling him 'Theros the Mountain Flame'. A dark mercenary, raven-haired and stormy-eyed, a lean and nimble build that fit well in light armour. He had the same sharp jawline and stubbled chin as Alexios. Perhaps one day he would watch a fight for dominance between the two, but if so that day was far off. In the meantime the orator spent his evenings at the temple, admiring Theros while he performed his personal, semi-regular ritual to the goddess of love.

The man came that afternoon, earlier than usual, without even a glance at the hetaerae that tended the shrine and sat in the cooling shade of the trees. Alkibiades was near the front of the temple on a marble bench, where he was enjoying some wine as the hot sun set on another day. He noticed in the periphery of his vision that Theros was approaching, but did not react immediately. It was not often that a misthios came to see him without some price on his head; and he would rather not tempt fate on such a fine day.

"Alkibiades?" He said when he was close. The orator could not quite pinpoint his accent; not Athenian, that much was clear. He lifted his gaze and smiled at him. He noticed then that his eyes were odd colours; the left was a lighter shade of brown than the right, more of a hazel, though both seemed to pierce into his soul.

"The Mountain Flame," he replied. "Very rare for a man like yourself to approach me. Rarer than I would like."

"Rare for a man not to panic when I do."

"I assume you don't make the acquaintance of those you're about to kill. Though I would _love_ to make your acquaintance. Perhaps when I've finished this wine?"

"I was told you have information about someone I need to find," Theros said. "The Eagle Bearer."

"I hope you aren't planning to kill him. He's quite a dear friend to me." The orator placed his chalice on a small silver platter beside him. He wondered for a moment if he would need to redirect Theros – perhaps mislead him to a quiet street in the slums and have him set upon by other mercenaries. That would have been a shame.

"No. I need to talk to him." Theros folded his arms as he spoke and half-turned from his companion, as if his words held more weight to them than the orator first thought. Alkibiades stood, his fingers on his chin, and perceived the man in front of him, enigmatic and unwilling to reveal more. The dying afternoon rays caressed Theros' sun-kissed complexion and almost obscured the faint scars that peppered one side of his neck.

"Alexios is a hard man to find," he mused, "and there's often a price in doing so. But he has a remarkable talent for appearing just when I need him to."

"I've spent a lot of drachmae getting here. If I need to part with more before this is done, then so be it."

"Business, business – too much of it will drain the fun out of life, misthios."

"I'll take my chances," he replied. "How soon can you send for the Eagle Bearer?"

"I told you – I don't send for him, he just…appears. Like a gift from the gods."

"A gift from the gods?" Theros' eyebrow rose and he looked sceptical, to which his companion offered a carefree chuckle and shook his blond locks.

"Once you see him in the flesh, Mountain Flame, I'm sure you'll agree with me."

"I doubt that. But very well. If it means he'll come quickly, I'll pray that we're blessed soon." Theros looked out at the sun as it dipped beneath the horizon. The amber flame reflected in his eyes and Alkibiades could see a certain pain in them – a pain far off and distant, but that burned and lingered deep in his soul.

"Where will you be, should he come?"

"In a small camp to the south," he pointed up at some of the mountains that rolled down to their fair and marble-cast city. "I'll set up there. It's a decent enough vantage point. I should be able to see whoever you send to fetch me before they reach the campsite."

"Not a fan of company, misthios?"

"Not a fan of people I don't know," he replied. "I'll be waiting, Alkibiades. Don't keep me waiting long."

Theros then departed for the temple itself, leaving the orator alone to ponder on his words, the tone of his voice and rigid posture of his back. Alkibiades had seen that sort of bearing before; had even held it himself, once. He had lost someone dear to him. Recently, perhaps, or instead someone so close that the loss had woven itself into the very core of his being, shaping him into the man he was now. The orator wondered if Alexios was somehow involved, and if he should warn him of Theros rather than arrange an audience between them. But he was quite intrigued to see just what the Mountain Flame wanted; and it had been a while since he had seen his friend.

It would be a welcome distraction from his usual schedule.

* * *

Alkibiades had no real method to contact the famous Eagle Bearer other than through rumour and word-of-mouth. It was not the most reliable system – he often wished Alexios had an itinerary of where he would be next – but it was usually enough to draw him out sooner or later.

This time, he came sooner.

It was another late afternoon when he arrived, after Alkibiades had just finished his supper and was starting to wonder how best to spend the night. The Eagle Bearer was equipped with new armour and a fine saddle on his horse, and though this interlude in his quest to reunite his family was not expected, he found himself thankful for the respite. The weight of the Greek world was a difficult burden to bear on one's shoulders.

Alkibiades lived in Perikles' house, where he spent much of his time either strategizing or 'entertaining'. Alexios was always marvelled at how luxurious it was. The fine silks and pillows in every corner; the marble and the fountain; there were even tapestries at regular intervals on the walls, and newer, more expensive artwork had been hung up since the last he had visited. He had never cared much for art. Perhaps the odd sculpture here and there, but he could not call himself a fan in the same vein as Phidias.

"Alexios!"

The misthios turned to the sound of Alkibiades' voice. He noted his oft-lackadaisical manner seemed somewhat more forced than usual, and greeted him with that in mind.

"Alkibiades," he said. "I heard you were looking for me. Is something wrong?"

"Not with me personally. I had a man approach me yesterday – a misthios, very handsome – and tell me he needed to speak to you. He's apparently spent a lot of drachmae to find out where you are."

"A misthios? Who? What could he want with me?"

"He didn't say. His name is Theros."

"The Mountain Flame?" Alexios sat down on one of the divans set up in front of a small sculpture of Eros. "I've heard of him. He set fire to those bandit camps in the mountains of Argolis."

"He's come a long way just for an audience. I would assume whatever he has to say is important."

"Or he could just want to kill me. More than a few mercenaries do."

"That could be the case," Alkibiades agreed, "but the situation didn't strike me as being that simple. It's best to meet with him, see what he has to say. If he tries to kill you, I've no doubt you can handle yourself."

Alexios lowered his head in thought. Theros was a newer misthios – he had heard his name only a few times, and information about him was scarce – so he was sceptical that this was not an attempt on his life. The head of the Eagle Bearer would propel his legend and ensure more expensive contracts from a wealthier elite of clients. But Alkibiades could read people well. If he thought this man meant him no harm, perhaps he was right.

"Fine, then," he said as he stood, putting his hands on his hips. "Where is he? I should see him as soon as possible."

"I don't think it's wise to fetch him yourself, Eagle Bearer. He's in a camp in the mountains and doesn't seem fond of surprise visitors. I'm sending my least favourite servant to tell him you've arrived."

"Then what do I do?" he questioned. "Sit on my hands until he comes?"

"Well," replied Alkibiades, "you could always talk to _me_."

* * *

It was late when Theros came to the door. Alexios and Alkibiades were deep in their cups at that point, so when he kicked open the door to the orator's room and rushed towards the Eagle Bearer, Alexios was not as quick to react as he normally was.

"Where is my son?!" he shouted while he grabbed Alexios' shirt. Alkibiades was on his feet, his thoughts slow and lethargic, and all he could do for a few seconds was stare at the scene in front of him. The thought to call the guards was far off and distant in his mind. He could see it only as a pinprick.

"Your _what_?" Alexios replied, to which he was thrown to the side against a nearby cabinet.

"My _son_!" Theros repeated. "My son, who _you_ rescued in Argolis. Where is he?!"

"How would I know? I don't even know who your son is!" The mercenary was on his feet again, and a dull, throbbing pain bloomed in his midsection. He had hit the cabinet hard.

"He was the baby that priestess of Hera almost murdered!"

"I gave him to his mother!"

"The same mother who gave him to Chrysis in the first place!" Theros' voice was enraged, loud enough to wake the dead, and Alkibiades wondered if the guards had heard but thought it part of his 'entertainment'. "She's as insane as the Followers of Ares. She would sacrifice him on the altar if someone told her it was the will of the gods!"

"What does this have to do with me?!"

Theros pulled out his blade. "You let him go with her."

Just as Alexios made to unsheathe his own weapon, Alkibiades made a move that he would consider later quite uncharacteristic of him. He stepped forward and raised his hands for peace, and the action caught both men's attention enough to dull the heat of the situation.

"I would rather not have my floors covered in my favourite misthios' blood," he said. "There's far too many happy memories here to have it ruined. Come, let's speak like Athenians, not barbarians."

"I'm not Athenian," Theros replied.

"But you've come far to find Alexios. Why waste all that time to kill him?"

"I…" he started, then sighed. The Eagle Bearer noticed, in that split second, that his eyes were mismatched. He wondered if it was the wine that had made him miss that detail.

Theros sheathed his blade and moved to the middle of the room. He started to rub his hands together, as if it helped him order his thoughts, and shut his eyes to the men before him. A pregnant silence filled the air. Alexios did not move to lower his own sword.

"His name is Leander." He told them. "His mother and I…He was an accident. Too much wine, not enough sense. I tried to be with her, but she was crazed. Religious to the point of fanaticism. I decided that, when our child was born, I would take him far from her – far from Elis, so that I could raise him peacefully. But he was born sick. He couldn't breathe properly. I could hear him when he slept, trying desperately to fill his lungs. It was the worst sound I will ever hear.

"We argued. She wanted him to be seen by the priests of Asklepios, and I wanted to take him to the healer Hippocrates. But I made a mistake. Told her I would take him from her and she would never see him again. So she stabbed me and ran off with him."

Alexios slipped his blade in his sheath. "You didn't head straight to Argolis?"

"She had stabbed me, Eagle Bearer. It was a week before I was fit enough to ride a horse again, and by that point Chrysis had…She had…"

"But Alexios saved your son," Alkibiades pointed out. "Did you intend to spear him for the trouble?"

"It was the heat of the moment. And he didn't save him. As long as he's in the hands of that madwoman, Leander is in danger."

"From where I stood, the arms of his mother were better than the heat of the flame." Alexios told him.

"Yes," Theros said, then more quietly, looking at the finger he was worrying, "Yes."

"Has she been seen elsewhere?"

"I followed a trail for a while – stories of a baby with mismatched eyes, on the path towards Euboea. But when I went there, they had moved on. The trail went cold, and I decided I needed to find you."

"I have no idea where your son or your lover went," the Eagle Bearer informed him. He now leant against the cabinet he had been thrown against, his arms crossed and his mind suddenly sobered.

"_Ex_-lover."

"Ex-lover," he amended. "I'm sorry, Theros. That time in Argolis was the only time I saw them."

"I thought that would be the case," he said. "I didn't come here to hear where they went. I came here to ask for your help in finding them."

"What?" he replied.

"If not for you, Leander would have burned alive. But you handed him off to Nefeli, and so you _must_ help me find him. He isn't safe."

Alexios paused and looked away from his companions for a moment. He had his own problems to deal with – the Cult, his sister, the continued search for his mother – but Theros' words had struck him. He felt, even if it was irrational, that he was partly responsible for Leander's dangerous situation.

"I know what it's like to have someone taken from you for someone else's fanaticism," he said as he stood. "I'll help you, Theros, if only to make sure one more child isn't ripped from their parent's arms. But where would we go? The trail is cold. We have no leads."

"Korinthia," he replied. Alexios' eyebrow rose. "Her mother is buried there. If Nefeli felt she needed guidance, she would have gone to the temples nearby to pray. It's not a lead so much as a theory, but it's worth it to find Leander."

The Eagle Bearer sighed and shook his head. "Fine, then. I'll have my horse prepared for dawn. We'll meet at the gates. And Theros?"

The mercenary paused and looked at him as he moved towards the door.

"Don't pull a sword on me again. I've a feeling it would end badly for both of us."


	2. The Road to Korinthia

Theros was not one for idle conversation, and so the first stretch of their journey was made in silence. Alexios admired the scenery as the road wound and weaved through mountains and the farmers' fields fell away into sweeping expanses of forest. The sun burned through the trees and dappled their horses with golden light, the cool breeze carrying the scent of rain as Ikaros drifted lazily on its current. Perhaps the weather would turn soon and force the pair to seek shelter. He wondered if Theros would accept that.

The Mountain Flame and his companion turned down a path that was bordered on either side with thick swathes of trees and foliage. The leaves rustled in the wind and deer leapt over the hoof-beaten road into the cool embrace of the bushes, squealing little screeches of fear or delight. On occasion, the branches would part and allow pools of light to mark their path. Alexios looked over at the man beside him and cleared his throat.

"So," he started, "you're quiet. Have you been to Korinthia before?"

"Once," Theros replied as he glanced over at his companion. "I had a contract there a few years ago. They had a boar problem."

"A boar problem? I can't remember the last time I was contracted for an animal."

"You are the Eagle Bearer," he pointed out. "It would be a waste of drachmae to hire you for that small of a problem."

Alexios laughed. "Perhaps you're right. Still, with all that's happened, I've started to miss the simple problems. Though I imagine now you find yourself with better contracts. You're becoming quite popular since those bandit camps in Argolis."

"Do you know, I wasn't even paid to do that. I was just angry."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," Alexios said, to which Theros chuckled and nodded. "Do you truly believe we'll find Nefeli in Korinthia?"

"No," he replied. "If she went there, she wouldn't stay for long. She knows I'm after her."

"It can't be easy to travel with an infant. We might get lucky."

"Nefeli may be insane, but she's resourceful. If she wasn't, she wouldn't have avoided me for so long. Perhaps if I…" Theros trailed off and shook his head. "I don't care how we do it, but we need to find Leander. When the time comes, I'll deal with Nefeli."

* * *

Korinth stood as a grey speck in the distance, and when he saw it Theros felt an odd stir of rage in the pit of his stomach. He wondered for a moment if Alexios' cautious optimism could be true – that perhaps Nefeli would slip up and she had remained in her ancestral home, and he would have his son in his arms sooner than he thought. He dismissed that thought almost as soon as it came into his head. Nefeli was a beautiful snake, but a snake she remained. She had slipped through his fingers countless times; it would not be for sentiment that he would catch her.

"That's the city," Alexios said the further their horses travelled on the path. The mountains had started to fade into sloping hills and rich farmland, the sunlight harsh and hot against the men's skin as the clouds slowly encroached on it. "I've a few friends here – well, not quite friends, I suppose. They might be able to tell us if Nefeli passed through."

"Are you certain your 'not-quite' friends will help us?"

"Yes. A man called Lykinos, especially. It's a long story."

"Nefeli's family was well-loved here. We should be discreet of our reason for finding her."

"Understood." Alexios pulled the reins of his horse to coax it into a slow trot rather than a canter. Theros glanced at him and did the same.

"We've at least an hour before we reach the city," he pointed out. "Tell me that story."

His companion laughed. A farmer went past with a wagonful of vegetables, forcing them to fall into a single file briefly before re-joining each other nearer a small stream that babbled and croaked with frogs.

"We were…intimate once." He told him. "I rescued him from some idiot bandits and he made me an excellent meal in return. But his brother fell in love with me as well and it caused issues."

"Sibling rivalry," Theros said. "I know it well."

"You do?"

"I've ten sisters in Phokis, where my parents settled after the wars claimed my brother. I was the youngest – the hot-headed rebel, my pater called me – and had to fight for every single thing I had."

"_Eleven _siblings? Your mater must have been a goddess, my friend, to raise eleven children."

"Her patience is the stuff of legends. My pater's, not so much. I've not seen them for many years, though according to mater's letters, I've many nieces and nephews now who want to meet me."

Alexios noticed that his companion's eyes seemed distant, dreamy, as if he were imagining a different life. Perhaps once, when first he had been thrown from Mount Taygetos and found himself on the shores of Kephallonia, he too would have been prone to fantasise about the path he could have taken, the soldier's life he could have led.

"Do you plan to return once this is done?" Alexios soon asked. Theros offered a small shrug.

"Perhaps," he replied. "If this ends with us retrieving Leander, then, yes, I'll have to go back. I'll need to leave him with my sister Aikatrine, where he can have a real life."

"Wait – you don't plan to raise the boy yourself?"

"Out on the road? Are you mad? The life of a misthios isn't for children, Alexios. He needs a home, a family, _options_. I'll send them the drachmae to raise him, and he'll know that his pater loves him."

Alexios could not argue with him – their life was not one that would provide for children, nor keep them safe in times of war and sickness. But he wondered to himself, as the pair wound their way through the meandering path to Korinth, if Theros was an honourable man or simply a guilty one.


	3. The City on the Ocean

For two prominent misthioi to enter Korinth, it often meant there would soon be bloodshed on the streets. Their vies for dominance had become the stuff of legend, and sometimes even children scampered out to watch a battle between captains. Its citizens did not expect, then, that one as famous and as deadly as the Eagle Bearer would trot in at the side of the rising Mountain Flame.

The companions ignored the stares of those who watched them. Theros felt the hair on his neck rise, and for a moment he wondered if Nefeli would have warned them of his arrival. But if she had, no villager came out to stop them, nor did he hear objection from the peasants who crossed their path. The journey to find his son had proved long and difficult, and he feared the stress of it had caught up with him.

"If she isn't here," said Alexios, "where would you guess she's fled to?"

"She might have sailed to one of the smaller islands – Delos, perhaps, or Mykonos if she had the drachmae and wanted to avoid the infighting. But with the war, I would suppose she went further inland, perhaps passed through Megaris. Greece is too large a place to search. We need more information to narrow down where she may have fled."

"After we've found Lykinos and Timotheus, I wager we should speak to the hetaerae," Alexios said as he pulled his horse out of the way of a passing cart. "Women often seek the comfort of other women in difficult times. The hetaerae may have sheltered her, or helped provide her with drachmae for her travels."

"Perhaps. It's a better idea than I had."

"What was yours?"

"Find the nearest kapeleia and ask some leading questions," he replied. Alexios thought he saw a smirk on his face, as though he meant it as a joke, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Perhaps the man simply needed a strong drink. "Oh, Eagle Bearer?"

The misthios turned to face him.

"If the brothers punch you, I'll laugh."

Alexios could not help but chuckle as the pair continued through the dusty streets.

* * *

The men sheltered their horses at the stables near the sea. Theros left Alexios' company to watch as the soft waves lapped at the shore, to refocus himself and calm his frayed nerves. The sun set the water aflame, warmed his face and taut limbs, and he found a moment of peace as he sat upon the rocks to admire the natural world; a world that did not care for nor even observe the problems of its inhabitants. Perhaps were it not his son in the balance, Theros would find comfort in that.

There were lovers in the distance, standing atop small islands to watch the ships sail past, embrace each other, whisper secrets in their ears. He admired their slim silhouettes framed against the sun. Theros wondered if it was a love that would prevail in even the darkest moments, or merely a chaotic and beautiful love that would die early in its cradle.

"Theros!"

Alexios' voice jarred him from his thoughts, and the Mountain Flame turned to see him approaching on the sand. He rose to meet him, folding his arms as the Eagle Bearer closed the distance between them.

"I see you have no black eyes," he observed with a wane smile. "Either you didn't find them or they were in a charitable mood."

"Lykinos can shout, but he can't throw a punch to save his life. I should know, I did it once," Alexios joked. "He and Timotheus heard me, after saying some choice words. Lykinos all but swooned when I told him of your search for your son. He's invited us to dinner to discuss it."

"To dinner? I fear he wants to poison you, Alexios." Theros smiled, and then it fell to be replaced with a firm and solemn nod. "Did he tell you if he's seen Nefeli?"

"No, he just extended the invitation. Timotheus didn't mention her, either, but both could just rather want to tell you personally. It's quite a story, someone travelling all over Greece to find their son."

"That will have to be enough," Theros replied. "Let's hope that one of them has something useful. I would rather we left here as soon as possible."

Alexios nodded. "Very well. I found a room for us for the night. We should speak to the hetaerae at the temple."

"I suppose this will cost more drachmae?"

"Perhaps not. If we can find Anthousa, she would tell us what we need to know. She's an old friend."

"I hope you're right, Alexios. I can't afford to lose Nefeli's trail." He replied. "Come, then. Let's find this Anthousa and see what she has to offer."

* * *

The sight of the temple stirred his heart more than he thought it would. It was peaceful, beautiful, like the ladies who cooled themselves in the shades of the temple trees and smiled at their passing. The men continued on a path that led around the building until they came to a fountain where four women sat, dressed in fine clothes and with expertly laced hair.

Their approach was met with stares of suspicion. Theros allowed for Alexios to take the lead and moved to a nearby pillar, which he leant against to watch whatever his fellow misthios had planned.

"Chaire, ladies," said the Eagle Bearer. One of the women stood – an olive-complexioned woman with tense shoulders and a rigid posture. She smiled at him, but her eyes glanced distrustfully at his companion.

"Eagle Bearer, welcome," she said. Her voice was soft and reminded Theros of the cool sea breeze. "I see you brought a friend. The Mountain Flame, yes?" The oddly eyed stranger nodded. "Welcome to the temple of Aphrodite. Have you come to find company?"

"No. We've come to speak to Anthousa about a woman and baby who may have passed through here."

"A woman with a baby?" The woman put her delicate fingers to her chin. "I can't recall someone like that. But I'm afraid you won't find Anthousa here. She's currently with a gentleman—"

"Elpis!" Came a voice from behind him, and Theros turned with his hand on his blade. The woman stood in the shade of a small and almost-hidden room set far into the wall, her face soft and pleased when she looked on Alexios. She did not even flinch at Theros' reaction, nor did she acknowledge when his hand fell from his blade to his side. "Alexios is a friend – the stranger he brings will be no harm to us. Come, Eagle Bearer, Mountain Flame. We can talk inside."

The companions split from the younger hetaerae, who still watched Theros as though he might pounce. They stepped into the shade and the Mountain Flame felt as though they were shielded from the world, as if some veil existed that separated it from the outside and made it impenetrable.

"I see you're still here at the Spring," Alexios mentioned when the three of them were further inside, near the back wall.

"It's a beautiful place, and we have some privacy here," she replied, "but, rest assured, we've not sat idle since you killed the Monger. Business has been excellent. My girls no longer need to fear the streets. But that's not why you've come, is it?"

Anthousa turned her attention to Theros and smiled at him. She had a motherly air about her, and for a moment he found himself comforted.

"No," said the Mountain Flame. "A woman might have come through here with her child – a baby boy. Alexios believes that if she did, she might have sought help from you."

Anthousa paused. She reached out to touch his face, and Theros had to restrain himself as she turned it towards the light. Her smile fell when she saw the reflection of his green and brown eyes.

"You're the child's father," she told him. Her tone was slow, almost accusatory. "She warned me you might come, that you would have his eyes. She told me you were a vicious brute who plans to murder her and her child."

She turned from him as Theros half-shouted, "That's not true!" Anthousa all but ignored him when she spun on her heel to glare at Alexios.

"Why did you bring him here?!" She demanded. "Nefeli told me you saved her son. Why would you come here with the man who wants them dead?"

"Anthousa, listen to me," said Alexios, taking a step towards her with his hands raised for peace. "Whatever lies Nefeli's told you, Theros has no intention of harming the boy. He wants to protect him."

"By putting a blade in him?!"

"Nefeli would have him killed long before I would!" Theros objected. "The woman's a snake – an idiotic fanatic who put Leander in the arms of madmen!"

He turned and paced the length of the room in an effort to calm himself. His outburst struck Anthousa, and the woman paused as she watched him, jarred from her imagining to the reality. A man intent on murder could not seem so honest, surely? Would a vicious brute react so strongly to her accusations?

"Anthousa," said Alexios again, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked at him with uncertain eyes. "What Theros says is true. Nefeli allowed for Chrysis to almost burn her son alive."

"Chrysis?" The woman repeated. "The priestess of Hera in Argolis? There were rumours about her – claims she was mad."

"She was. If I had chosen to chase her instead of saving the boy, Leander would have died. Nefeli was certain she had made the right choice, and who knows what else she could be certain of?"

Anthousa laced her fingers together and lowered her head, until her eyes were on her shoes. Alexios persisted.

"Theros wants only for his son to be safe. Won't you help us, my friend?"

The woman was silent. The Mountain Flame came to a stop near the far wall and leant against it, breathing through his anger, and watched as she battled with herself. Then she looked up and fixed her friend with a clear and determined gaze.

"Alexios, you've proven before that you can be trusted," she told him, "and now that I think about it, Nefeli's tales of your friend's brutality don't quite make sense. At least, she wore no evidence of it, and her manner was…unlike that of other women I've met who escape from those lives. I trust you. But I'm afraid I don't know much."

"Whatever you can tell us will help," he assured her.

The woman let out a little cough as if to clear her throat, ran her hand down the front of her dress as though to clear it of creases, and stood straighter. She put her hands behind her back and faced Theros, who coolly met her gaze.

"Nefeli came here to see her mater's gravestone," she told him. "She had little in the way of drachmae and asked us to help her, appealing to us with her tales of savagery at the hands of her son's father – you. Her family was well-loved, but she seemed to want our abilities for discretion. Of course, we did what we could. We ensured she and her child had enough to eat, helped her to earn some drachmae. Some of the girls even put in their own, to bolster her stocks. She was here for a few days, perhaps, no longer than a week. By the time she left, she had enough to buy herself and Leander passage on a ship."

"To where?" Theros asked, rising from his place against the wall.

"That, I do not know. She didn't tell me where she intended to go – only that she needed to leave."

The man sighed and hung his head. It seemed no matter how close he came, Nefeli was always one step ahead of him. He felt as though she were taunting him, holding their son hostage to her wild and fanatical whims and laughing at his inability to stop her.

"I'm sorry, Mountain Flame," Anthousa said, and her voice had regained that soft and motherly edge. "Perhaps someone in the city can tell you more. Leander is quite distinct from other babies."

"I…Thank you. This is closer than I've been for a while."

"I'll ask my girls and see whether they know more. Perhaps she said something to one of them. If not, I wish you luck."

"Anthousa," Theros said before she could turn to leave, and the woman stilled to hear him. "Did he seem well? Leander? Was he healthy?"

Her brow furrowed, and she replied at length. "He had some trouble breathing when he would start to fall asleep. It only lasted for around an hour every night, I believe. I noticed that Nefeli tried to hide it from us at first."

Theros nodded. "Thank you."

Anthousa departed, leaving her companions in the cool shade to think on her words. Alexios folded his arms and looked at the man before him, who wearily shook his head and sighed.

"We still have Lykinos and Timotheus," he pointed out. "Even if they can tell us nothing else, we know at least that she took a ship. We can use my ship, the Adrestia, and search for her."

"Yes," he replied. "Yes. Forgive me, Alexios. This has been a…difficult venture."

"It's alright, my friend. Come. We should rest before we meet with the brothers."

The Eagle Bearer started towards the entrance, but before he stepped through he turned and smiled at Theros. It was meant to comfort him, and it helped ease the stress on his companion's shoulders.

With another shallow sigh, the Mountain Flame followed him.

* * *

Korinth was beautiful at night. The moon was full, and the streets were all but deserted save a few hetaerae, or the odd wandering citizen coming home after a stroll in the silver-lit city. Theros and Alexios walked to the brothers' house in silence, and the Mountain Flame appreciated the cool breeze on his face, the soft candlelight in people's windows.

Once they came to the door of the home, Alexios paused. His companion looked at him with a furrowed brow and a slight smile.

"Nervous?" He asked.

"No," he replied. "Well, perhaps. A little. I think they shouted at me enough this morning. Come, let's get this over with."

He knocked on the door – a hollow sound, Theros thought – and the pair waited. Footsteps sounded on the other side, light and delicate, and the Mountain Flame could swear he heard Alexios' take a deep breath.

The door opened. Before them stood a fair man, bearded and slim, who smiled when he saw them. Immediately he could smell the warm scent of delicious food that floated in the house, and his stomach rumbled as he realised how little he had eaten.

"Lykinos," said the Eagle Bearer, but the man seemed not to notice him.

"Chaire, _misthios_," he said, and his words were aimed at Theros, long and drawn out with a flirtatious tone. "Come in – I've just finished setting out the meal."

Inside, the house was sensible and sparsely decorated; an idol here or there, perhaps a few scraps of parchment near a window that faced the sea. There was a table with two benches set out with a large spread where another man, who he assumed was the brother Timotheus, sat, his hair cut short and his eyes sharp and observant. Theros chose to sit across from the stranger, for he could feel the heat behind his glare when Alexios entered the room. As Lykinos took his seat beside his brother, the Eagle Bearer decided to break the tension.

"Lykinos, Timotheus," he said as he gestured to his companion. "This is Theros the Mountain Flame – the man I told you about this morning."

"The misthios that set fire to those camps in Argolis?" Timotheus asked.

"Yes," replied Theros. "Not one of my finest moments, but the name is nice enough."

"I heard the fires were beautiful," said Lykinos as he handed the pair of them plates laden with fresh meats and vegetables. Timotheus reached over to make himself a plate as his brother spoke.

"I didn't stay to watch them."

"Oh?" Lykinos said, to which he received no response from Theros. Instead, Timotheus cut into the conversation, earning him a frustrated glance from his brother.

"Is Alexios' story true? Are you searching for your son?"

The Mountain Flame reached over for a cup of wine near him and took a long draw before nodding. The food was delicious, and for a moment he recalled meals at his family home in Phokis, where he and his sisters would vie for the best cuts of meat and the largest vegetables.

"Leander was stolen from me by his mater," he told them. "I won't rest until I find him."

"It's such a beautiful story – a father crossing all of Greece to find his son." Lykinos said, propping his head against his hand and smiling at Theros. The man furrowed his brow and looked at the drink in his hand as he brought it to his lips again.

"The reality isn't so beautiful, Lykinos," his brother said, with an edge to his voice that made Lykinos glare.

"Perhaps if you spent less time ignoring the world around you, Timotheus, you might realise that the greatest stories involve struggle."

"What would _you_ know of struggle, Lykinos? Running off to become a poet when there's more important work to be done. Father and I—"

The slighter brother set his hands on the table and stood, nodding at his company before gesturing Timotheus to follow. "Excuse us for a moment."

The pair went to the far side of the room where a whispered argument started up, quiet enough that neither Theros nor his companion could hear them. The Mountain Flame looked at Alexios, bewildered.

"Are they often like this?" He asked.

"All the time," he replied. "Why do you think I was quiet? This may be a long night."

"At least there's wine." Theros said as he reached for his cup again.

* * *

Once the brothers had returned, conversation touched for a while on more pleasant topics to dispel the tension in the room. He learnt much of life in Korinth, and in turn they learnt much of the life of a misthios. The four of them even laughed and shared tales of grand misadventures – but this was not the reason Theros had come. Once he felt both Lykinos and Timotheus had imbibed enough, he once again returned to the subject of his son; and this time, he controlled the flow of the conversation.

"This has been an excellent meal, Lykinos," he complimented, "but I'm afraid I must come to the point of my visit."

The brothers set down their cups and turned their full attention to him. He could see sparks of curiosity in their eyes, and did his best to ignore the fact that Lykinos' wandered over his torso.

"The hetaerae told us that he and his mater passed through Korinth some time ago. She earned enough coin with them to buy passage on a boat, but they couldn't tell us where she sailed to. Her name is Nefeli."

"_Nefeli_?!" Lykinos exclaimed. It was so loud and jarring that the men around him started. "We've known Nefeli since we were children. We used to play together in the mountains. She's your lover?"

"_Ex_-lover."

"She came here with her son a week ago," said Timotheus, "but she told us his name was Kallikrates. She asked for some drachmae to help her sail to Delos."

"So she _did_ sail there. Good instincts, my friend." Alexios said while he drank his wine.

"Then we send for the Adrestia and set after her."

"Why would Nefeli steal your son from you and change his name? It doesn't make sense. We've known her for years – she and her family were devout, reliable people."

"Her devotion turned into fanaticism," replied Theros with a snort. "She's done many things to raise my ire, but for now, she has my son and he's in danger. She needs to be found and stopped."

"I'm sure no one will be able to stop you," Lykinos said with a dreamy look in his eye. Timotheus rolled his eyes beside him and reached for his cup, and Theros did his best not to look directly at the once-poet.

At least there was wine.


	4. Ships and Chefs

The open sea was vast and unforgiving, but as Theros helped to prepare the Adrestia for sail he felt no challenge was too great for her. She was strong, fast, and the men and women who stood aboard her were fierce warriors in their own right, prepared for the trails and tribulations of seafaring life. Both the ship and crew invigorated him for the journey ahead.

That was, of course, until Lykinos decided that he would join them.

He saw Alexios and the poet on the docks, engaged in an argument that seemed heated. The Eagle Bearer and his companion were gesturing, eyes hard and intense, and their lips moved at the same time in a bid for dominance. Theros tied a rope in his hands while he watched them, his eyebrow raised as the fight continued on.

"Mountain Flame!" A voice shouted suddenly in his ear. Theros started and turned to his left, where he caught sight of the wild-haired and wild-mannered Barnabas beside him. The misthios let out a little sigh and clutched at his chest.

"That's the second time this morning," he pointed out, but his companion did not seem to hear him. Instead Barnabas leant against the ship's gunwale, resting on his forearms, and looked out at the men arguing below them.

"That Lykinos fights to board the ship and sail with us. He's persistent – but is he a sailor? Only Poseidon knows for sure."

"He wants to come to Delos?" The Mountain Flame said, to which Barnabas nodded and smiled. "He's a madman. Look at him – he's a poet, a cook, not a sailor. He'd be thrown overboard with the first strong wind."

"A cook? Why, that's perfect! Our last died in an Athenian raid."

"This one would die of seasickness," Theros murmured. It did not seem to dampen Barnabas' spirits. The old man offered him a quick farewell before he hurried down the walkway towards the dock, and with a sigh the Mountain Flame continued his tasks.

He heard Barnabas' voice join the discussion – it was difficult not to – and glanced up to see him enthusiastically speaking to Alexios, who folded his arms and listened to him with a hard-set jaw and an expression of doubt. He heard the words, "Cook…Poseidon…Fate…Boy," before he saw Alexios look up and catch his eye.

"Theros!" He called. "Lykinos has apparently decided that the next step for him as a poet is to sail the open seas. He wants to join us. What are your thoughts?"

The misthios leant against the cleats in front of him and shook his head. "It's war out there, and he's no warrior. Assuming he lives through our first raid, he won't be able to hold his own or contribute to the ship."

Lykinos frowned and stepped to Alexios' side.

"I can contribute!" He defended. "Barnabas says that you need someone to cook when you dock. I'm an excellent cook."

"Can you hunt? Can you use a sword? Will you be able to defend yourself if we're boarded?" Theros asked, waving a hand for emphasise. "This isn't a leisurely sail around Greece, Lykinos; it's a mission to find my son. There are warships and pirates that can and _will_ try to kill us."

The poet flicked his long hair over his shoulder. "Then we should be thankful that two famous misthioi are onboard."

"Let the boy come, Mountain Flame!" Barnabas cut in, and though his voice was loud and wild there was something endearing about him. He struck Theros as a man he would call a friend one day, perhaps. "He's eager and willing, like a good woman on a cold night. If he's not meant for the sea, the gods will throw him to the sharks."

The misthios looked down at them, considering Barnabas' point, before he rolled his eyes and returned to tying the ropes into their cleats.

"It's your ship, Alexios," he said. "I leave the decision to you."

The Eagle Bearer nodded and turned to the men beside him. He tapped a rhythm on his bicep as he thought on the fact he had no cook, and whether or not it was worth the risk of hiring one without battlefield experience. Lykinos was no use in a fight – he had first-hand knowledge of that – but his culinary skills would boost morale.

With a roll of his shoulders and an upwards tilt of the head, Alexios sighed, "Fine, you can come with us."

Lykinos smiled and surprised Theros with a calm and polite nod. He half-expected a victory dance, but instead the poet started to collect what little he had prepared for the trip; a small and conservative pack of necessities, all folded into a rough-hewn sack. Perhaps he would be a quiet bystander on their adventure and contribute more than the Mountain Flame thought.

"Wait!"

The men looked up to the sound of the voice. Timotheus marched down the docks, another sack slung over his shoulder, and came to a halt in front of Alexios.

"If Lykinos is going, I'm coming with him."

The Eagle Bearer and Mountain Flame shared an inward groan, and Barnabas, smiling, was oblivious to it.

"He carries himself like a soldier!" He exclaimed.

"Timotheus," Lykinos whispered harshly as he stole towards his brother. "What are you doing?"

"They're right – you aren't capable of defending yourself against pirates. I am."

"Must you become involved with everything I do?" His brother said.

"What about your home, your fishing?" asked Alexios. "Your father is buried here. Are you certain you want to leave Korinth – your livelihood – behind?"

"My father is dead, Eagle Bearer, and Lykinos is all the family I have left. I would rather abandon this city and be at his side than stay here and let him go undefended."

"That's—! That's…rather sweet, actually," said his brother. The poet's face softened, and his smile was small and warm in the light of the morning sun.

"Besides," Timotheus continued, "you need someone to make sure he doesn't accidentally sink the ship."

The three men laughed, much to Lykinos' chagrin, before Barnabas patted them on the shoulder and gestured to the walkway.

"Then it's settled!" He announced. "Come, my friends, let me show you the Adrestia. The crew needs to welcome their newest brothers-in-arms."

The first mate departed with the new recruits. Theros and Alexios looked at each other, their arms crossed, and the Mountain Flame wearily shook his head.

"This will be a disaster."

"Barnabas is right. We needed a new cook, and with Timotheus to defend him Lykinos is a good fit. We'll just have to get used to the constant bickering."

"You first, Eagle Bearer," he chuckled.

* * *

The first stretch of open sea was calm, with no ships on the horizon nor waves to thrash against the hull. Theros stood with Alexios on the platform at the ship's stern and observed as miles of the blue beast slipped behind them and drew them closer to Delos. Even Barnabas was quiet for a time, content to bask in the fair weather and salt spray of the ocean.

"Poseidon favours us today," Alexios mused to his companions as the ship continued on.

"Be careful," said Theros, "I've heard he has a wicked sense of humour."

"He blesses us with clear skies and calm seas!" Barnabas exclaimed. "This will be a bountiful voyage, my friends."

His enthusiasm was almost enough to convince Theros that he would soon have his son in his arms and his journey would be at its end. But he could not quite bring himself to believe it. He realised he had just scratched the surface of a quest that might send him across all of Greece before either he or Nefeli gave up. But he would never give up; not while she still drew breath.

The crew on deck were on the watch for enemy ships on the horizon; sharp-eyed archers who would raise the alarm the moment a pirate was spotted, even a lone one on a dismal island. Theros felt an odd sense of security with them. Before he had met Nefeli and sired her son, he had spent a few years on the roads alone, with but the wildlife and contracts for company. In time, he felt he might even be able to sleep without constant stirring.

"Look, Eagle Bearer, Mountain Flame – the brothers are arguing," said Barnabas. He gestured to Lykinos and Timotheus at the other end of the ship, embroiled in a discussion that they could not hear. Their tight, agitated movements and furious expressions were enough to tell it was not a pleasant discussion.

"Already?" Alexios laughed. "That didn't take long."

"What is there to argue about? The weather's fair and the gods are smiling on us."

"I imagine it's to do with the fact Lykinos will die on this trip," Theros leant against the banister that lined the edge of the platform. He watched the pair and was reminded of himself and his own brother, before he fell in battle. Babajide had the esteemed title of 'eldest son', and since Theros was the second-born son _and_ twelfth child he was often reminded of his place in the hierarchy. He could still feel his muscles ache and bruises flower on his skin whenever he remembered his 'contests' against his older brother.

How he missed him.

"You are too serious, my friend," Barnabas told him. "There's adventure on the horizon! Do you not smell it? Breath deep and embrace these moments, Theros! Victory is in Delos!"

"I'll believe that once Leander is with Aikatrine and her husband," he replied.

Alexios turned his head towards the sea and chuckled.

"Be wary, friends," he said. "If Timotheus throws Lykinos overboard, one of you will have to fetch him."

* * *

The first island he chose to dock in, Alexios made certain his crew had cleared it before either Lykinos or Timotheus were allowed to set foot off the ship.

Theros had found himself a comfortable spot in a dead pirate's tent; little more than a tattered piece of cloth tied to two trees that stood close to each other. He laid in the sand as the poet cooked and felt himself doze as the cool night swept in, the moon crawling upwards as the sun dipped behind the horizon and winked across the sea a final time.

He could feel eyes on him. He ignored Lykinos' occasional glances, exhausted and wanting to prepare himself for another, perhaps harder, day at sea tomorrow. Theros would have fallen asleep without dinner if the poet had not come and presented him a portion himself.

"There wasn't much game about, but what we did find was good to eat," he said. The misthios sat up and took the bowl from him with a polite nod. When he smelt the meal, however, he realised just how hungry he was.

"Thank you."

"Thank Alexios. He hunted it down."

"You cooked it," he replied as he spooned some into his mouth. "It's delicious. Have the others eaten yet?"

"I was told to let them serve themselves; but you were almost asleep. I worried someone would eat yours before you woke up."

He smiled and looked out at the sea that surrounded them. It was silver with moonlight, and Theros took it in a deep breath of clear, crisp air.

"Do you know, Lykinos," he said. "This just might work."


End file.
